Why do people love to live alone in a house?

Where do I even begin? I love the silence from the moment I’m home, except for my happy dog who’s usually by my side. The box turtle outside is bouncing his head in anticipation of me giving him some apple slices.

I’ve always been a fairly happy guy, but sometimes with too much stress. Over the years, I’ve figured out how to create the perfect life, and I can’t recall a time when I’ve ever been happier.

There is very little stress because I’m my own organizer. I’ll look at my list of home projects and pick something off, or work on client issues, but it’s all at the pace I set. My favorite home projects are anything that involves the tractor. Even mowing feels good for the brain, and sometimes I hurry; other times, nope, I’m just taking my time.

I have the power to talk to aliens through using telepathy. Why do people think I'm crazy?

I can accomplish far more in a day here while living alone than I ever could living in the city while commuting to a downtown office. At rush hour in Seattle, it took me about an hour each way, so there are two hours shot. Then on top of this, when I was in the office, social chit-chat zapped another hour throughout the day, most of which was hearing what someone did on a weekend, or about some crazy aunt or a sick cat. I miss some of it, but here in Missouri, I get to focus on my work, and I love that. I don’t miss the boring meetings.

Everyone who lives alone will tell you how they get to do what they want when they want, but it’s far deeper than that. Doing things at that pace, in that structure of what you want, when you want, makes us better at everything we do. We’re always our optimum selves. This is what’s often missed about living alone, and it’s the most important point of all. My best writing is in some odd hour when the mood strikes. Or, I’ll have a client idea, and I’ll sit and fuss over it and delay dinner. I’m not working around the schedule of someone else.

I live out in the country, on acreage, and I have no commute to anywhere, so I’m home a lot. I keep my house perfectly maintained, in order, and clean, so everything has its place. I’m a neat freak, but not compulsive. I just like order so I can be efficient. I’m not to the point where I put screws in little jars, but almost.

Hello, I have a question about astral projection. I started to get interested in this a little while after my mum passed in april. I thought I may be able to see her and speak with her if I managed to achieve astral projection. Since this interest, every time i sleep on my back I go into sleep paralysis. However, I cant progress into astral projection because it is very scary for me as I feel like I'm suffocating when this happens. I panic and force myself to wake up. This only ever happened about once a year before this. It sometimes lasts a long time. This has happened about 3 times per week since my mum died, as mentioned on a previous post. I no longer try to go into it anymore(due to the suffocating feeling), but it still happens. I read that sleep paralysis is the pathway to astral projection. Why has this started to happen so frequently since simply taking an interest in it? Is this connected to the afterlife? I am concerned about it as I now cannot seem to stop this happening. Could it be my mum trying to communicate? Im asking due to more knowledge around this in this group.

Here, working and living alone, my work calls are condensed down to typically 30 minutes or less. We get on the phone, Zoom, or some other camera meet-up, we cover our key points, and we’re off. I then plow into my work. I can spend my former commute time getting real productive work done, and I can do it at any hour of the day or night. I love every bit of it. I still have visitors, and I enjoy that too, but most of all, I love the concentration time of working alone.

But sometimes, in the middle of the night, I’ll play loud music or watch a movie, and that too feels efficient. The other night I was up working in my home office at around 3 AM, just as a great thunderstorm came through. I sat there thinking about perfect moments in life, and it could not have been more special to me, right down to what I was writing about as the storm passed. I was well aware of just how unique that exact slice of time was for me.